Cordova Recessional
9/4 – 9/5/22
9-4
The morning was foggy and cool. As I walked to a nearby café for breakfast, I stopped to take a few pictures of the harbor, where a ghostly sun hovered over long rows of fishing boats. After a brisk walk along Cordova’s main street (distinguished by what has to be one of America’s last Radio Shacks), I visited the Historical Museum, whose director had kindly agreed to meet with me, and downloaded a spectacular trove of photos documenting the construction of the Copper River Railway.
Having transferred these to Google Drive, I emerged with a light heart into the sunshine. The weather was splendid: a high in the sixties, and scarcely a cloud in the sky. A grocery store sandwich in hand, I sat on a bench overlooking the harbor, and watched sea otters splashing among the boats.
After a walk along Orca Inlet to check out the scanty remains of the old railway pier, I joined one of my rafting tripmates for a hike up the hill overlooking Cordova. We walked through a moss-hung rain forest, past a series of sunny bogs, and up to the top of the town ski hill, which offered spectacular views in every direction. To the east, the Copper River Highway, laid on top of the old railroad track, arrowed into the delta.
Dinner was an excellent fish burrito at Baja Taco, which I chased with a contemplative walk along the harbor breakwater, the sun settling on the placid bay, attended by clouds of snow-white birds.
9-5
I packed away my clothes this morning, and was unsurprised to find my boots still wet. After a final walk through sunny Cordova, I strolled out along the harbor breakwater, and watched a raft of otters cracking away at their oysters. Then, it was time to go.
I had arranged for the only taxi in town to pick me up, but the driver continued past the hotel without stopping, and I had to call the office to summon him back. My fellow rafter and I arrived at the inimitably named Mudhole Smith airport just as boarding began for the flight to Anchorage.
We flew over the delta, countless channels sparkling, and then along the coast, the Chugach Mountains passing in review. At Anchorage, bags in tow, I headed out to Title Wave Books to pass the time during a long layover. Then I returned to the airport, for two very long flights, and home.